Hoping for Vincent

For the past few months I’ve been talking with Sam and Julia about the possibility of getting a cat.

Actually, what happened was I mentioned something about it back in December and, ever since, one (or both) of them will ask me about it every time we’re together.

Their mom was working last week, so I got to spend Wednesday through Sunday with the two of them, which was terrific — apart from the fact that they asked, at least once a day, if I had spoken to my landlord yet about the aforementioned feline companion.

I hadn’t talked to Joe yet, but that didn’t stop me from wandering through PetsMart with the kids on Saturday afternoon. I told myself I was just doing recon, that my plan was to adopt a cat from the Humane Society. While Sam went off to look at various rodents, Julia and I discovered that one of the local animal shelters had set up an area with ten or fifteen stray/abandoned cats available for adoption.

Vincent showed up this past winter, suffering from frostbite, malnutrition, pneumonia, and a horrible gash in his left side. He lost the tips of both his ears, was half-dead, and was almost euthanaized before someone from the shelter stepped in and nursed him back to health.

He was a very friendly guy, with little rounded ears, a long scar on his flank, and a laid-back nature which seemed perfectly in line for a cat who’d barely escaped death and had grown to appreciate the finer points of lying around all afternoon. I liked him a lot.

We spent about twenty minutes in a room with him. He slinked around, sniffing in the corners and trying figure out the best way to escape. Every so often he’d wander over to one of us and allow us to pet him . . . there were a few times when, suddenly, he’d stop and roll over onto his back and stretch his paws out to any and all willing to scratch his stomach. He was somewhat intimidated by Julia but I expect he’d do just fine once he got over his initial skittishness and figured out that she’s got a lot of love.

That was Vincent.

So . . . I filled out the paperwork, faxed it to the shelter, and left my landlord a message.

We’ll see how it works out…